


take a good look at what you've done to me

by Scarlett_Rogue



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Geralt pulls his hair hard enough to hurt himself basically, M/M, Panic Attacks, self-harm sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Rogue/pseuds/Scarlett_Rogue
Summary: "What's at the edge of the world?"Jaskier's seemingly innocent question leads to Geralt having a panic attack.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, but Jaskier does call him love, could be read as just friends - Relationship
Comments: 5
Kudos: 92





	take a good look at what you've done to me

**Author's Note:**

> I put the self-harm warning in the tags because I know some people would consider this self harm and I wanted them to have a warning just in case. Anyway this fic is just angst and I do apologize, but it just wouldn't leave my head.

“What’s at the edge of the world?”

They’d been sitting in relative peace around the fire, dinner finished and Roach taken care of. Jaskier was strumming his lute and Geralt was taking the time to brew up a potion that he’d been running low on. Jaskier stopped strumming suddenly, and that was when the question slipped out.

Geralt wasn’t prepared for his reaction. He froze. Every muscle in his body tensed up. He stared down at his concoction, unable to meet Jaskier’s eyes, but not quite seeing it either. It was as if he was looking through it. He attempted to get his vocal chords to work, to give Jaskier some kind of answer even if it was just his trademark ‘hmm’, but thought better of it. His throat didn’t feel like a part of him anymore; nothing felt like a part of him.

“Geralt?”

He was vaguely aware of a wheezing noise breaking the stillness of the air. It was probably coming from Jaskier, or maybe Roach. He couldn’t find it in him to care. He closed his eyes tight, the fire suddenly too bright, too much. 

_‘If we go passed it, do we fall off the world?’_

His hands were in his air before he even knew he could move again. Deft fingers wrapped around strands and pulled, causing a distant ache in his scalp, but he just pulled harder. The ache helped. The ache reminded him that he was still here, sitting in front of the fire. 

_‘Where do we fall?’_

Geralt felt like he was falling; in a way he was, bending his body forward around his legs. The wheezing sound was getting louder. He started to register that the noise was coming from him.

“Geralt.”

It was soft, so soft. A warm hand rested over his own, still in his hair, still pulling, and a thumb rubbed the back of his hand. It felt _real_.

“I’m sorry. I’m right here. Come back to me,” Jaskier whispered. Carefully he pulled Geralt’s hand away from his head where his scalp was turning an angry red and laced their fingers together. At this angle he was able to rub his thumb into Geralt’s palm, and something about that sensation brought Geralt back to their surroundings. He opened his eyes. The fire was still too bright but he forced himself to count as much of the kindling as he could. Afterward he lifted his head and looked around, counted the trees, counted Roaches hooves. 

Soon enough he found he was able to stretch his legs out, pull his other hand out of his hair. He focused on the feel of Jaskier touching him; it was the only thing he could feel apart from the wave of exhaustion that settled in his bones. 

“I’m sorry,” Geralt muttered. It came out raspy, and he tasted tears - how long had those been there? “I-I don’t know what just happened.”

“I think you had a panic attack, love,” Jaskier said, his words slow and deliberate. “I used to have them a lot at school.”

“But I shouldn’t - I’m a Witcher!”

“Memories don’t care what you are, I’m afraid.”

Jaskier’s earlier words came back to him, but the effect was different this time. He mostly just felt tired and defeated. His nose picked up a foul smell and he realized with little concern that his potion was burning. Jaskier pulled him closer - he allowed himself to lean his weight on his closest friend. Maybe he would be over it someday.

Maybe.


End file.
